


Nothing Like a Good Trauma Roadtrip

by Chiyana



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: And not like a fun mess, Angst, Everyone is a mess in this one, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Recall, Sort of but I'm counting it, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:55:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24463864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiyana/pseuds/Chiyana
Summary: The Reaper has Gabe's face, Jack and Ana knew, and they didn't tell Jesse.Jesse takes it about as well as you would expect.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Comments: 17
Kudos: 166





	Nothing Like a Good Trauma Roadtrip

Jesse still wasn’t sure how he felt about Hanzo. His first impression of the man came from having to pick up the angry pieces of Genji he’d left behind. Jesse had spent years inching his way through the minefield that was Genji Shimada, getting a good look at the absolute wreck the trauma had made of him, the trauma Hanzo Shimada directly caused. It had taken a long, long time for them to become friends, for Genji to open up and let Jesse in at all. Jesse opened up in turn and let Genji into places he hadn’t let anyone else.

Then Genji bailed on Blackwatch for Overwatch proper near the end, leaving Jesse and Moira with an increasingly unstable Gabriel Reyes and dissolving Blackwatch. Jesse understood why Genji left. Hell, he understood why Genji played dumb to the things Blackwatch did. It was the smartest option. He had no sway over Reyes, no way to stop or minimize the disaster he could see coming. So he left, without telling Jesse until it was done and he was gone. That had been painful. It felt like Genji got to be airlifted off the sinking ship and Jesse had to drown. Jesse tried not to blame him for leaving, and for not telling him. He wouldn’t have trusted himself back then not to try and convince Genji to stay. 

The Genji who met him after the Recall wasn’t anything like the man he’d spent so much time with years ago. He was happy, laughed and joked about bright, happy things, and seemed so at peace with himself. Jesse didn’t really recognize this Genji, and he wasn’t sure where they stood. Genji was still his friend - Jesse was loyal to a fault like that - but he didn’t know what that looked like now. He didn’t know what they could talk about or tell each other anymore. Before, they’d been able to lay every ugly secret and every gaping wound bare to each other without fear, share in their pain and commiserate. Now though…. Hell, this Genji had forgiven Hanzo. The last time they’d talked about Hanzo, Genji had been drunk, red eyes blazing, snarling about how much he hated every inch of Hanzo’s murdering guts, and now he was thrilled to have his brother back in his life. 

Even ten years gone, it was… an adjustment. 

Hanzo seemed just as bewildered about this as Jesse was, but… well, Genji. Genji had forgiven Hanzo and wanted him here, so here Hanzo was. Genji wanted Jesse and Hanzo to get along, and Genji was Jesse’s friend, so Jesse and Hanzo were polite and civil to each other without really knowing how to act. Jesse knew what Genji had told him about Hanzo, and how Hanzo had left the Shimada clan and had been single-handedly dismantling it for the past eight years or so. Hanzo knew what had been plastered about Jesse everywhere, and a few corrections Genji had made. It made things… awkward.

Things had gotten a little easier since Jesse had learned that Hanzo had an incredibly dry, straight-faced form of humor that Jesse found genuinely funny. They still weren’t sure what the safe topics were without Genji there to mediate, but sometimes they could sit together and drink in peaceful quiet or talk about surviving on the run. Hanzo had locked off the Shimada funds for the rest of the family and donated the vast majority of it, but he kept enough to maintain Stormbow and his legs periodically. Their experiences running around were surprisingly similar: sleeping where they could, eating what they could, taking odd jobs for pennies to get by, and sometimes drinking away the pain. It wasn’t perfect, and they still stepped on each other’s landmines without realizing, but they were trying. 

The biggest twist was that they worked together on the field almost seamlessly. Both sharpshooters, they knew how to call for each other and the right give and take. Jesse didn’t bother worrying about anything long distance, trusting Hanzo to take them down, and Hanzo moved out of Jesse’s way when they were too close for his bow and too far for melee. Jesse’s time with Genji meant he was used to the Shimada brand of fighting, and he hadn’t been surprised or protested being used as a springboard on multiple occasions. They were almost always on each other’s missions now. 

The current mission was just for recon. There was a warehouse suspected of holding deactivated Null sector units, but everything was above board and legal on paper. No overt reason for Overwatch to get involved, or justify it if they were caught. Jesse, Hanzo, and Genji were sent to scope the place out. If they found anything concrete, they’d report back and Overwatch would decide what to do from there. 

Hanzo was set up in a sniper’s nest, keeping an eye on the whole compound for them and giving them a head’s up. Genji was climbing up high in the catwalks, sneaking into buildings where he could and looking through windows to see if there was anything that needed further investigation. Jesse was on the ground, checking their security measures and inventory. He’d gotten into one of the offices and pulled some information for them to run through their system and was just slipping back out. 

“ _Wait, McCree_ ,” Hanzo called. Why were the comms suddenly staticking? “ _There is movement behind you-_ ” 

McCree turned and saw a black hooded figure with a bone-white mask appearing from thin air and leveling a shotgun at his face. 

He had Peacekeeper snapped out of her holster and aimed, hands steady even as adrenaline flooded his system. He fired, a body shot, and the bullet went straight through the ghost. 

_Oh fuck_. McCree ducked away from the shotgun and bolted. He tried to call Hanzo and Genji, but the comm shorted out after two words. He could hear gunfire far to his left and rounded a corner to head for it. He ran directly into the ghost, forming from an inky black cloud that reached for him, pulling at him. It was icy cold and stung where it touched him. He rolled back, jumping back up to his feet and leveling his gun at the white mask materializing from the darkness. It receded just as he pulled the trigger, the bullet passing through again. It was a neat trick, and not one he could replicate as the shotgun reappeared and fired at him. He dodged, but not without shotgun pellets tearing through the flesh on his shoulder. 

Jesse hissed as he ducked behind one of the warehouses. There wasn’t a lot of cover here. Hell, there wasn’t really _any_ cover if the ghost could reappear wherever he wanted. 

Speak of the devil. 

Another shot that ‘missed’, and Jesse got shotgun pellets scraped across his back. He ran, away from where he knew Genji and Hanzo’s last positions were, hoping to keep the shadow from them. Again, again, again, the shadow kept appearing, kept cornering him, and Jesse couldn’t land a hit. He could only keep running. 

When the shadow next appeared, he ducked, gave it time to form and aim before taking his shot. It hit something like flesh before the shadow shifted away with a snarl. 

_Two to one_. Bad odds.

“Hanzo, Genji, come in,” he hissed into his comms. Static, but then….. 

“- _Cree_ -” 

Jesse tried the door to one of the warehouses. Locked. He put his back to it, and pried out his communicator, trying to get it to reset, reconnect, re-something. 

“Fall back,” he said, hoping the line held long enough to get the message through. “Fall back, fall back, _fall back_. Fall back!” He put the comm to his ear. 

“- _Cree_ -” That sounded like Hanzo’s voice. “- _acker_ -” 

“Fall back,” McCree repeated. “Fall back, fall back, fall back.” The shadow appeared in front of him, and he rolled through the ghost before it could fully materialize. It felt like going through a cloud of mist made of ink. It popped against his skin painfully. He stumbled up and around, gun drawn. Just before he pulled the trigger, his prosthetic gave out. The sudden dead weight made him stumble, and he missed the ghost completely.

“Fuck!” Jesse bolted, awkwardly grabbing for his arm to keep it from swinging around. He couldn’t feel it, couldn’t control it, couldn’t get it to come back on. It was just dead, painful weight. 

_Hacker. **Fucking hacke** r_. That’s what Hanzo had been trying to stay. “Fall back,” he said into the comms. “Fall back, fall back, fall back.” 

He was distracted. He’d been hit by two shotgun blasts, not directly thankfully, and now his arm wouldn’t start working. He couldn’t get in touch with the rest of his team, he had no idea where he was going. 

It shouldn’t have been a surprise when a clawed gauntlet caught him around the throat and slammed him up against the wall. The other hand grabbed his wrist and smashed it against the concrete brick until Jesse dropped his gun. 

The blank, emotionless mask stared at him. Jesse fought to breathe around the tight grip. He could feel sharp metal edges pressing in against his skin, threatening to do more than just cut off his air. The shadow stepped close, head tilting a little to just… look at him. Jesse kicked at the immaterial body and struggled, spat at it. He must have bit his lip, because his spit was mixed with blood on the pure white mask. 

It let go of his hand, holding out its own to grip around a shotgun that materialized out of thin air, and… hesitated. Jesse bared his teeth. 

“Gonna monologue at me or just fucking do it?” he spat, trying to brace his feet against the wall and push himself up. The hand was ridiculously fucking strong and wouldn’t budge. The shadow didn’t say anything, but it didn’t aim the gun at Jesse just yet. “Will you just fucking-” 

One of Hanzo’s arrows caught the edge of the mask, shooting it clean off the ghost’s face. Jesse glanced over to see Hanzo standing several yards away, already reaching for another arrow. Genji had been dropped to the ground behind him, not moving. The shadow hissed, and Jesse’s eyes snapped back to the-

The face. The scarred, twisted, ashen gray skinned, completely different yet oh so familiar face that Jesse would always know. It didn’t matter how many years passed, it didn’t matter how it changed or how Jesse changed. Jesse would know that face, that person, _this person_ , in his bones for the rest of his life. The man who had hauled him out of the dirt, gave him something to live for, gave him something to work for, gave him people to love who loved him. The man he knew better than to idolize but did so anyway, the man who’s death had killed something important in Jesse, permanently.

“Gabe…?” 

That face turned back to him. He was so different now, skin stretched too tight, color wrong, new scars that hadn’t been there before, black mist breathing out through his cheeks like the flesh there was impossibly thin. His eyes, eyes that had been warm and dark, that crinkled at the edges when he smiled, were black with red irises now, pupils reflecting light in a way that made them almost indistinguishable from the iris. There was almost light there, almost… recognition. He knew Jesse - he _had_ to know Jesse - _please know me_. 

“Gabe,” Jesse whispered. Gabe had to know him. Jesse had Gabriel Reyes burned into his bones, into his very DNA. There had to be something like that with Gabe, right? He had to have some form of Jesse McCree permanently imprinted on him. Because if he didn’t… if he didn’t, if he didn’t know Jesse at all, if he didn’t think twice about shooting Jesse dead, Jesse was going to lose his mind. 

“Gabe, please,” he tried. Gabe’s eyes flickered over him and… then it was like something pulled at him. A little tug at the base of his skull, a reminder of where and who he was, and the eyes flattened back out and the shotgun was raised to his head. Jesse’s hand was free and he just… didn’t do anything. Didn’t try to block his face, push the shotgun away, dig his thumbs into Gabe’s - _Gabe’s_ \- eyes, just… hung there. Hung there and closed his eyes so he didn’t have to see it happening.

“ _Ryu ga waga teki wo kurau_!” 

Light, snarling howling _roaring_ light rushed past them, and Jesse could feel the force of the wind, the brush of scales, and the hand letting go of his neck. He opened his eyes to see the tails of Hanzo’s dragons chasing down the path between buildings. The ghost - Gabe, Gabe - was gone, he had been dropped to the ground, and Hanzo was crouching in front of him. 

“-Cree, McCree!” 

Jesse was on his feet, helping Hanzo support Genji between them as they fled the compound. Gabe.

He was crouched in front of Genji, doing as he was told to force the reboot system in his cybernetics one-handed while Hanzo called in back-up. Jesse’s arm didn’t have a system like that, and he wasn’t sure what all was wrong with it. It still wouldn’t work. He’d have to get Torbjörn to take a look at it. That had been Gabe. 

They were on the drop-ship, and Hanzo was patching him up. How much had he been shot? Gabe had shot him. Gabe was _alive_ and had _shot him_. Repeatedly. Why. Why? _Why_? 

They were debriefing. ‘They’. Hanzo and Genji were giving the report, and Jesse was sitting there feeling numb. Ana was looking at him with concern, Jack standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. Reinhardt, Torbjörn, and Winston sat around the table. Angela was using a biotic salve on some of Jesse’s smaller cuts. 

That was about when Jesse came back, staring at the table, feeling the biotics tingle against his skin. 

“Anything else to report?” Jack asked, voice even rougher than it had been in the old days. 

“No, that is all,” Hanzo finished. 

“It was Reyes,” Jesse said, finally looking up. Everyone’s head swung to him. 

“What?” Reinhardt asked, frowning in confusion. 

“The ghost, the one attacking me. It was Reyes.” 

“ _Reyes_?” Torbjörn asked incredulously. Angela’s mouth fell open a little. 

“That… that cannot be possible.” 

“I’d recognize Reyes anywhere,” Jesse said firmly. “I know him. That was Reyes.” 

“That was the Reaper,” Jack said firmly. Jesse flexed his working hand. Torbjörn had taken his prosthetic and passed it to Brigitte to work on while they debriefed. 

“Then the Reaper is Reyes,” he said, looking up at Jack. “I know what I saw, and-” 

And then he actually _looked_ at Jack. The firm press of his lips. The way he met Jesse’s eyes without flinching, without hesitation, without _surprise_. Jesse’s eyes ticked to the others at the table. Reinhardt, Winston, and Torbjörn seemed genuinely shocked. He couldn’t read Genji’s face anymore, but his body language said the same thing. Angela wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes darted back and forth as her mind raced, searching for answers. Hanzo had no idea who they were talking about and just looked confused. 

And Ana looked like Jack. 

“…You know,” Jesse said. 

“What are you talking about?” Torbjörn demanded. “Know? Reyes has been dead for years!” 

“No,” Jesse said, standing. “You,” he said, looking at Ana and Jack. They didn’t look away. “You know. You _knew_. You knew Reyes was the Reaper, you knew he was still alive!” 

“Whatever the Reaper is,” Jack started. 

“Don’t you fucking give me that!” Jesse snapped, yelled. “Don’t _either_ of you fucking give me that!” 

“What your language, Jesse,” Ana said calmly. 

Something hysterical bubbled in Jesse’s chest. “My _language_?” he choked. 

“Yes,” Ana said, “your language. I understand you’re upset-” 

Jesse wanted to scream. “How long did you know? How long have you two known?” Ana and Jack exchanged a look, and Jesse felt his hackles raise. “You’ve known since before the Recall!” 

“We determined it wasn’t important to share,” Jack said stiffly, and Jesse really, really wanted to lunge across the table for his throat.

“ _Excuse me_?” he choked out. 

“That seems like a very big secret to keep,” Genji said, and Jesse appreciated that he managed to be so diplomatic while Jesse was about to absolutely lose his shit. Hanzo sat quietly, expression as neutral and impassive as possible. The others looked gobsmacked. 

“We did not want to risk compromising certain individuals,” Ana said. 

“You didn’t tell anyone because you didn’t want me to be _compromised_?” Jesse asked disbelievingly. 

“There are others who would not take the news well, Jesse.” 

“If you are referring to any of us in this room other than Jesse, I will amputate my own arm,” Angela said flatly. That actually surprised Ana and Jack. “What? Do you think we are stupid? You didn’t tell any of us because you didn’t want Jesse to know.” 

“…Fine,” Ana said. “Yes, we did not want to compromise Jesse.” 

“Yeah,” Jesse said, skin feeling itchy, “why would you want to tell me while we were safe, on base, and I could have had time to process it, when you could risk me finding out in the field with no warning? Because that definitely didn’t fucking compromise me out there, and definitely didn’t almost get me shot in the face with a _fucking shotgun_!” 

“ _Language_ , Jesse.” 

“ _Do I look like I give a single fuck about my language right now, Ana_!” Jesse shouted. 

“Enough,” Jack said. 

A horrible laugh bubbled in Jesse’s throat, and he swallowed it down thickly. “When I came back, I told you two face to face that I’d rejoin Overwatch if we agreed to cut out the secrets and subterfuge and _bullshit_. No lying, no withholding information as a manipulation tactic, none of that. I wanted us to actually be on the same side this time, and you two said _yes_. And you said yes fucking _knowing_ that the Reaper was Reyes. You knew he was alive, and you didn’t _fucking tell me_. So our first interaction since you two faked your own deaths, and our first interaction in this new Overwatch, was you two _lying to my fucking face_. And for what? What the fuck was the point of it?” 

“Reyes is _dead_ , McCree,” Jack growled. “Whatever that thing is, it’s not him.” 

“ _It has his fucking face_!” 

“And that’s all it has. It isn’t Reyes, and he isn’t alive.” 

“So why didn’t you at least tell me that!” 

“Because you would have rushed off the second you knew, Jesse,” Ana said. “You wouldn’t have thought or hesitated. You would have gone after him, and likely gotten yourself killed. You were needed here. You _are_ needed here.” 

“So you lied to me. I asked you two, _specifically_ , not to lie to me, and in the next fucking _breath_ you did it. Instead of trusting me, instead of _talking to me_ , instead of thinking maybe I fucking _changed_ in the ten years since you last saw me, you lied to me, and you put me at risk. You put everyone on a mission with me at risk, because you didn’t want to risk me leaving. Because you wanted to control my emotions, control me. _Again_.” 

“Jesse,” Ana sighed, like she was disappointed. 

“No, you know what? Fuck it. Fuck it.” Jesse stood, shoving his chair back and snatching his hat off the table. He couldn’t look at Ana and Jack anymore, couldn’t bear to look at Angela or Reinhardt or Torbjörn either. He turned, stumbled over his chair, and kicked it violently into the wall. Everyone flinched at the loud sound, and Jesse didn’t give a shit. His hands shook as he left. 

Genji, stood, gesturing quietly to Hanzo, and left the debriefing to go after Jesse. Hanzo followed him without a word. He had his own opinion on what had happened, his own anger at Morrison and Amari putting them in danger for no discernible reason, but he did not know if it was appropriate for him to voice those irritations. Either way, he’d rather not be in the middle of the fight about to happen between the founding members. Winston, even though he was technically a founding member, seemed to feel the same. He shuffled out after them, looking embarrassed. 

“Who is this Reyes?” Hanzo asked him. 

“The commander of Blackwatch, McCree’s unit,” Winston explained, ushering them down the hall quickly. The conference rooms were moderately sound-proofed, but this close they could still hear the shouting. “Jesse was his second in command.” 

“I see. And he is supposedly dead?” 

“Since Overwatch disbanded,” Winston confirmed. “He was… very important to McCree, as I understand it.” 

“Yes, I imagine he was.” That was pretty damn clear from the way Jesse had reacted. Winston scratched his chin awkwardly. 

“I ah, didn’t have much interaction with Blackwatch. Overwatch and Blackwatch tried to keep out of each other’s way as much as they could.” 

“It’s difficult to be an effective black ops unit if everyone is aware of what you are doing,” Hanzo pointed out. 

Winston cleared his throat. “Yes, well. I did meet Gabriel Reyes a few times. He was very… intimidating.” Hanzo nodded. He didn’t say that he thought Winston seemed easily intimidated and likely found a lot of people intimidating. “Frightening to think about Talon having him on their side.” 

“Hm. If he is. Morrison and Amari seem determined that this Reyes is dead, and that the Reaper only has his face.” 

“Yes, but… McCree would know better than them, wouldn’t he?” 

“How should I know?” Hanzo asked bluntly. He didn’t know this Gabriel Reyes, didn’t know his relationship to everyone in Overwatch. How was he supposed to know who would be better at identifying Reyes? 

Winston didn’t seem to hear him exactly. “You saw him about to shoot McCree. Did he hesitate at all?” 

Hanzo didn’t answer for a moment. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to. 

He’d shot at the ghost when he first saw him pinning Jesse to the wall, but he’d missed, only caught his mask. He’d seen that gnarled, dead face turn to snarl at him before turning back to Jesse. He’d seen the shock on Jesse’s face, seen Jesse whispering something, a name, a plea. He’d seen the ghost - Reaper - regard Jesse, shotgun in hand and just staring. He’d seen Reaper decide and lift his shotgun, and he’d seen Jesse’s body go slack with resignation, seen him shut his eyes against the pain. It shouldn’t have affected him so much, but it shot cold adrenaline down his spine and through his body, and he didn’t even think before summoning his dragons to their fullest and firing them at the Reaper. 

So yes, the Reaper had hesitated to shoot Jesse. And then he’d raised his gun to do it anyway. 

“I could not say,” he said instead. 

Winston looked troubled. “I see….” 

“If you’ll excuse me,” Hanzo said, bowing slightly. He left Winston to go check over Stormbow and his legs. The hacker hadn’t targeted him, but after what it’d done to Genji and McCree’s non-organic parts, he didn’t want to take any chances. He didn’t want to be around anyone else today either. 

He even managed that, up until almost eleven o’clock at night as he was getting ready to sleep. Someone knocked on his door, then kept knocking, steadily and consistently. ‘Someone’, Hanzo knew exactly who it was from that. Genji used to do that all the time when they were kids, sometimes to annoy Hanzo, sometimes for serious reasons. Hanzo steadied himself as he opened the door. 

“Genji-” he said, prepared to explain that he was very sorry about what he’d done but humans needed _sleep_ even if cyborgs did not. 

Genji did not give him time for this. “Good, you’re awake,” he said, shoving his way into Hanzo’s room. The forcefulness was new, and Hanzo watched Genji a little stupidly as his brother yanked open his dresser and started throwing clothes into a travel bag. 

“What are you doing?” he demanded. 

“You owe me, right?” Genji asked, not looking at him. Hanzo straightened stiffly. 

“That should go without saying, yes.” 

“Good, I need a favor then.” 

“You wish for me to leave Overwatch?” 

“Only a little.” 

“Only a little,” Hanzo scoffed. “What are you doing?” 

“Packing you a bag. I need you to go with McCree.” Hanzo came over, batting Genji away and pulling out clothes for himself. He assumed he would need a few changes of clothes, so he packed a few pairs of underwear, shirts, and pants. 

“Where are we going?” 

“Dunno,” Genji said, grabbing his toiletries from the bathroom and throwing them into the bag too. 

“Has McCree requested my presence?” 

“He’s not actually told anyone he’s leaving,” Genji admitted. Hanzo paused in taking the toiletries out of the bag to relocate to a front pocket. 

“Then why am I going with him?” 

Genji turned to him with Stormbow in one hand and his quiver in the other. “Because Jesse is extremely upset and I don’t want him disappearing or doing something reckless and getting himself hurt. He is my friend.” 

“Then why aren’t _you_ going with him?” Genji tossed the weapons into the duffel, even though they clearly didn’t fit, and Hanzo wrinkled his nose. He relocated his toiletries and took Stormbow and the arrows out to put in their usual carry case. 

“Because I left Blackwatch for Overwatch and I don’t think he’d let me come along with him, and I need someone to look after him. Besides, you two are friends!” 

“We are just on speaking terms.” 

“See, friends.” Genji threw a pair of shoes into the bag, and Hanzo took them out to pull them on. He was wearing a pair of dark blue sweatpants and a t-shirt with some anime design on it that Genji had gotten him. Genji tossed a jacket into the bag, and Hanzo pulled that out to put it on too. 

“I am just to be McCree’s keeper then? For how long?” 

“I dunno, until he’s calmed down? Just… please, Hanzo,” Genji said, gripping the open edge of the duffel. “Please.” 

Hanzo sighed as he zipped up the jacket. “I am not saying no, Genji. I will go with him.” 

Genji’s hands flexed and his shoulders relaxed. “Thank you, brother. Take your communicator with you, in case you need to call us.” Hanzo shouldered the duffel bag and picked up Stormbow’s case. He pocketed the communicator Genji handed him. 

“Come,” Genji urged. Hanzo turned off his lights, glad he’d tidied up earlier, and locked the door behind them. “McCree is in the hangar getting a car ready to go.” 

“And I am to convince him to let me come with him by…?” 

“I have every faith you will figure it out.” 

Of course. Hanzo detoured through the kitchens before heading to the hangar. When he got there, Jesse was indeed working up one of the hover trucks they kept in the hangar. He had his prosthetic back, but he seemed to be struggling with it a little still. Hanzo didn’t bother saying anything to him as he put his things in the back of the cab. There was a worn leather duffel there already. Hanzo climbed into the front with a tupperware container balanced on his lap and buckled his seatbelt. Mentally, quietly, he cursed Genji. Not really, just a little. Comfort and empathy were as far from Hanzo’s forte as it was possible to be. What the hell was he supposed to do here? He didn’t know Reyes, he didn’t even know Jesse all that well. 

Why not have Brigitte do this, or Hana or Lucio? Lucio, he was good with this kind of thing. 

Though, Hanzo wouldn’t have felt comfortable having one of the kids listening to his issues. He couldn’t imagine Jesse would feel comfortable with that either. Everyone else Jesse had history with. 

So… here Hanzo was. 

Jesse closed the hood of the truck and stopped as he caught sight of Hanzo. Hanzo didn’t do or say anything other than watch Jesse back. After a long, uncomfortable moment, Jesse came around and climbed into the driver’s seat of the truck, slamming the door shut. Hanzo stared straight ahead. They said nothing for a minute until Hanzo held up the tupperware container. 

“Brigitte’s cookies.” 

Jesse looked at the container, silent for another long stretch of time, before he turned back forward and put on his seatbelt. Hanzo took the container back as Jesse started up the car. They still didn’t say anything as Jesse directed them off the base, though Hanzo grimaced a little when Jesse jammed his foot on the gas. 

They drove in silence for hours away from the coast. This late, the roads were long and fairly empty. They passed a few semi-trucks transporting goods, most of them automated, but for the most part it was just dark, empty roads. After a few hours, Hanzo opened the container and pulled out a cookie. He passed it over to Jesse before taking one for himself. Jesse didn’t say thanks, or anything, and Hanzo settled in for the long drive. 

Jesse could talk, could make noise constantly as he hummed to himself or whistled, and he was usually the first to start chatting on the comms during a mission. Hanzo had, at first, found it obnoxious. He saw it as Jesse being an incompetent loud-mouth, typical American couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Overtime, he’d realized that while it wasn’t true, it was exactly the impression Jesse wanted to give. He used it on targets sometimes, playing off being a dumb or cocky American. They fell into the trap, underestimating him or brushing him off, and got a bullet through the head as their reward.

Then he watched as it broke the ice within their own team. The newer members talked easier, didn’t hesitate to call in or bring up something they weren’t sure about. They talked easier off the field too, to Jesse and each other, joking and telling stories, asking for advice. Grudgingly, Hanzo had to admit it made things easier and… nicer. It was cozier, like a family, or a unit. 

That Jesse was so silent now was unsettling. Hanzo didn’t know how to break the silence so easily or gently as Jesse could. What was he supposed to say? 

‘I’m sorry your commander died except no he didn’t.’ 

‘It must hurt that two old friends lied to you.’ 

‘I’m sorry your two old friends you thought were dead turned out to not be dead and then lied to you about your other dead friend still being dead.’ 

‘Did Brigitte actually fix your arm or are we both about to die in a horrible car crash?’ 

‘Want to hear about the time I went to poison two of the elders who pushed me to mutilate Genji and ended up accidentally causing them to shit themselves in the middle of a meeting because I misjudged the type and amount of poison?’ 

Genji really had chosen the single worst person to take care of Jesse on this expedition. 

So Hanzo sat in silence. He dozed off a bit, jolting awake whenever Jesse took a turn too hard or veered around someone to pass them. It wasn’t any worse than the time Genji had convinced Hanzo to let him drive father’s new car and almost got them arrested before they pulled their family name, so he didn’t complain. 

He did complain when the sun started to come up and they were still driving. 

“You need a break from driving,” Hanzo said, sitting up and wincing. The truck wasn’t all that comfortable to sit in for so long without a break. “Pull over at the next station.” 

Jesse bared his teeth, not taking his eyes off the road. “I don’t rightly recall asking for your opinion,” he growled out. “Don’t rightly recall asking you to come along, actually.” 

“You didn’t,” Hanzo agreed. “You have been driving for seven hours, and you need to eat. Pull over.” 

“If I pull over an’ stop, I’m leavin’ you behind.” 

“You are not,” Hanzo said firmly. “You are going to pull over, eat, and then you are going to let me drive so you can sleep.” 

“You really think I’m gonna take well to being ordered around right now?” Jesse asked tightly. 

“No,” Hanzo said plainly. “But you need to eat and rest all the same.” 

Jesse said nothing. He drove past the next station, and Hanzo decided not to press it. It seemed to just be out of spite though, since Jesse pulled into the next station almost an hour later. Hanzo waited for Jesse to get out first before getting out himself and stretching. He winced, running through a few quick stretches to work out some tight muscles. Jesse set the truck to recharge and rolled his prosthetic wrist, wincing. 

“Is your arm still not fully fixed?” Hanzo asked. 

“It’s fine,” Jesse said testily. Hanzo decided not to press that either. They ate at the little diner attached to the station, used the bathroom, argued about who would drive, and got back on the road with Hanzo in the driver’s seat. Jesse didn’t give him any direction other than ‘not back to the base’, so Hanzo plugged in the directions for Switzerland on a whim and started down the road. There were more people out and about now with the sun coming up, but the highways weren’t so congested as to slow them down. Jesse pulled his hat down over his face and slept. Hanzo didn’t want to try playing music, so he just drove in silence. 

They switched again at lunch time, stopping to eat, stretch, use the bathroom, and recharge the truck. Jesse didn’t reprogram the destination as he started driving. Hanzo slept through some of the drive, waking up to feed Jesse another cookie after about two hours. He noted Jesse had taken them off the main highways and away from the major cities and populated areas. With any other context, Hanzo would have thought Jesse was driving him out here to kill him. 

Well, if he was, Hanzo’s dragons would take care of him at least. 

They stopped again at dinner time, but Jesse dug his feet in when Hanzo tried to get into the driver’s side. 

“I’m drivin’.” 

“Your hands are shaking,” Hanzo noted, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Just get in the cab, Shimada,” he said through gritted teeth. 

“You are in no state to drive.” 

“Then stay here an’ call someone t’ pick you up.” Jesse yanked the driver’s door open and climbed in. Hanzo wasn’t about to let Jesse drive off with Stormbow, and he climbed over to the other side of the cab with a muttered curse. He refrained from glaring at Jesse as he slammed his own door shut and buckled his seatbelt. 

Jesse didn’t wait for him to get settled before pulling the truck out of the station viciously. Hanzo took a deep, slow breath and forced himself to relax. He was here because Jesse was having a break down and Genji wanted someone there for him. He was also here uninvited by Jesse himself. A bit of hostility was to be expected. Besides, it was no worse than his experiences dragging Genji out of bars and clubs years ago. 

The sun set as they drove, the roads thinning out with other cars. It was around nine o’clock that Jesse took them off the roads entirely. The truck lurched a little as the hovers got used to the uneven terrain, but it smoothed out quickly. Hanzo glanced over at Jesse, but he’d turned off the map and had his eyes fixed on the dirt path. 

Hanzo felt uneasy. He amended his list of concerns - that Jesse was driving him out somewhere remote to kill him - to include Jesse driving out somewhere secluded to commit suicide. 

Well, if he was, at least Hanzo could make that difficult.

They drove along the dirt path into a thick, old forest, winding through the trees. Hanzo couldn’t see any real roads or signs, but Jesse seemed to have an idea of where he was going at least. Hanzo still didn’t feel comfortable sleeping anymore.

The silence had already felt heavy before, and it felt veritably oppressive now. Jesse’s jaw worked as he ground his teeth, and he didn’t seem to be even registering Hanzo’s presence anymore. Whatever was running through his head was just working him up worse and worse, building up tension in his whole frame until Hanzo could feel it. He couldn’t really do more than watch Jesse cautiously and keep quiet for now.

They started driving up, at some point, winding higher and higher. Jesse slowed down to get through the trees, thankfully. Less good was when they cleared the trees and he sped up, aimed directly at the cliff. 

“McCree,” Hanzo said anxiously, watching the edge start to get closer faster. Jesse didn’t look at him. “McCree!” The engine of the truck started to rev louder, and Jesse was gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. “ _McCree_!” Hanzo lunged across the cab and grabbed the wheel, yanking it to the side. He jammed his leg in next to Jesse’s to slam on the break. Jesse jolted as Hanzo knocked into him, and he took his foot off the gas pedal. The car lurched to a stop. Jesse’s hands shook as he pried them off the wheel. Hanzo turned off the car and took the key with him back to the other side of the cab. 

They sat in silence, Hanzo feeling his heart thudding in his chest as he watched Jesse. Jesse stared at the dashboard. 

“…McCree?” Hanzo hazarded, trying to sound gentle. ‘What the fuck were you thinking driving both of us off a cliff’ didn’t seem like a very productive stance to take. Jerking, Jesse threw the door open and almost threw himself out of the car after it. Hanzo watched him pace back and forth outside, tearing his hands through his hair, before he turned on his heel and stormed towards the cliff. 

Hanzo scrambled out of the car to follow him. _Please don’t kill yourself, please don’t kill yourself, please don’t kill yourself_. 

“McCree-” 

Jesse stooped to scoop up a fist-sized rock and he hurled it out over the forest. “God damn it!” he bellowed out to the empty night air. Hanzo slowed his pace, watching as Jesse started grabbing rocks off the ground and throwing them off the cliff. 

“One thing!” he yelled. “One _fucking thing_ , that was _all I asked_! And you couldn’t even fucking give me _that_! I gave years of my _fucking life_ to Overwatch and its fucking _bullshit_ , and you couldn’t tell me the truth the one _fucking time_ it mattered! _Fuck_ you, fuck _all of you_! You self-serving hero-complex fucking _narcissists_!” 

He was swiftly running out of sizable rocks, and Hanzo started looking at the ground at his feet. This was significantly healthier as a coping mechanism than Hanzo expected, even if there had been some questionable attempts at detours on the way. If Jesse wanted to throw rocks and scream at the night, Hanzo wasn’t going to stop him. In fact, he’d much rather encourage this than anything else. 

Jesse didn’t stop yelling as Hanzo looked. “After all those years I gave to you, you still just see me as fucking dirt! Just that worthless gangbanger Gabe picked up off the street, huh?! Just that dumb kid only good with a gun?! Doesn’t fucking matter that Gabe made me his second, doesn’t matter that I proved myself over and over, doesn’t matter that I looked up to you and idolized you, I was never fucking worth it! Still just some liability you can’t fucking trust!” Hanzo found a good collection of rocks and brought them over. Jesse wheeled around when Hanzo got close, but he stopped himself from hitting Hanzo at the last second. Hanzo held up his rocks in offering. 

Jesse’s jaw tightened. Still, he took one of the rocks and hurled it as hard as he could off the cliff. 

“Spent all that _fuckin_ ’ time, gave Overwatch years of my _fuckin_ ’ life! Ten fucking years! And then when everything went to shit, guess who got to take the blame! Yeah, big damn fuckin’ heroes of Overwatch, made all the decisions and were the ones to fuck everything up, and _they_ all get to fake their deaths! _Well guess fucking what, Morrison_ , I didn’t have that goddamn luxury! You two got to go and die, you and Gabe, you all got nice funerals and medals, and _my_ face got blasted over everything! Can’t pin everything on the dead martyrs, but me? Oh _everything_ got to be blamed on me! I didn’t _get_ to be dead, I didn’t _get_ to be fondly remembered, or a hero, or any damn thing! I was Overwatch’s dirty fucking secret! Everything I did in Deadlock, oh _that_ got blasted around everywhere, but even a single thing I did to help? All those lives I saved, all that work I did getting my hands dirty, all that information I helped get for _you_ , no one gave a _shit_ about any of that! I was just a criminal who proved Blackwatch was rotten to the core! So while you two got to go running off doing whatever the fuck you wanted, I didn’t get a fucking choice! Everyone knew me, everyone was looking for me! I didn’t get to help, I didn’t get to have friends, I didn’t get to try and just settle the fuck down away from all this _bullshit_ , NO! I just got to be on the run for _ten fucking years_!” 

His voice was starting to get hoarse. Hanzo kept locating rocks for him to throw and silently passing them over. 

“And then hey, turns out you two weren’t even fucking dead! You didn’t even _try_ to get in touch with me, you didn’t even _try_ to help me! Just ran off and did what _you_ thought was best, and _fuck everyone else_! Fuck me, fuck _Fareeha_ , your fucking goddamn bullshit mission was more important than _any of that_! You selfish fucking bastards!” Jesse picked up a particularly heavy rock Hanzo had found and outright screamed as he hurled it into the distance with his prosthetic arm. They listened to it crash through the branches, knocking something loose to create a little cavalcade of crashing sounds. Jesse’s chest heaved, hands flexing into fists and shaking. He didn’t reach for the next rock, though Hanzo had a few left. He held onto them and watched Jesse. 

Finally, Jesse sagged and slumped down to the ground. He braced his elbows against his knees and put his head in his hands. Hanzo set the rocks aside and sat down next to Jesse. They were back to silence, other than Jesse’s panting, but it wasn’t so oppressive now. Jesse seemed to have screamed out the worst of his anger. 

Which was great, except Hanzo still had no idea how to offer comfort in this situation. Did Jesse want to be hugged? Was Hanzo possible of _giving_ hugs? Did he want to talk, or have someone talk to him? What would Hanzo have wanted in this situation? 

Well, not an audience, that was for sure. Bit late for that.

Jesse’s prosthetic suddenly seized, scraping across his head roughly. 

“Fuck!” Jesse hissed. Hanzo managed not to jump. 

“Let me see your hand.” 

“It’s fine!” Jesse snapped. His voice rasped painfully. His temple was bleeding. 

“It is not,” Hanzo said calmly. Then, “please, McCree.” Jesse’s jaw clenched. After a long moment, he held out his arm. Hanzo scooted closer and took his hand gently, setting it in his lap. He dug around in his pockets until he found a clean tissue he’d tucked in there without thinking a few days ago. 

“Here.” Jesse took it and pressed it against his temple, arm up and crossing over his face a little awkwardly. Hanzo looked over Jesse’s arm. He knew a bit about prosthetics, enough to keep his own legs functioning. His were fairly state of the art though. Jesse’s prosthetic was surprisingly old and heavy. There were much better prosthetics nowadays, but he didn’t imagine Jesse had had many options while on the run. 

“How much was Brigitte able to look over it?” 

“Dunno,” Jesse admitted. “Snatched it outta Torb’s workshop without asking.” 

“Was it hooked up to anything?” 

“…Yeah.” 

Hanzo shot Jesse a sharp look, and Jesse actually looked sheepish. That mollified Hanzo enough not to lecture him. Not that it was his business, really. “Stretch your hand out fully.” Jesse did as he was told, and his hand shook badly with the strain. It seemed to be having a hard time extending fully. The arm was mostly mechanical, so the issue was likely a connective one. Hanzo noticed Jesse wince as he hand snapped back to a half-curled state. 

“Does it hurt?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Hm. Touch each of your fingertips to your thumb.” Jesse got through his pointer and middle finger easily, but he struggled with his ring finger and couldn’t get his thumb and pinky to touch at all. He made a cut-off frustrated sound. “It looks to be a connector issue. Likely there was interference there when your arm was hacked, and the Lindholms were unable to finish their diagnostics run to work out the problems.” 

Jesse’s shoulders dropped a little. “Probably shouldn’t’ve grabbed it like that.” 

“No, you should not have,” Hanzo agreed. “Does having it attached hurt?” 

“…Yeah.” 

Hanzo managed not to sigh. “I will drive us. Take off your arm and rest for a bit.” 

“I don’t want to go back to base,” Jesse said. 

“Then we will not. There are other ways we can run diagnostics on your arm and get it fixed. Until then, you are exacerbating the issue and hurting yourself like this.” Jesse peeled the tissue back, and some of it tore off to stick to the scrape. It hadn’t clotted quite yet, and he folded it over to a clean side before pressing it back. 

“Guess not,” he agreed. He turned his head towards Hanzo. “Mind holdin’ that? I’ll get it off.” Hanzo reached over to press the tissue to his head gently. It freed up Jesse’s flesh hand to fiddle with the prosthetic and get it disconnected. It managed to zap him one last time as he got it off, and he jumped under Hanzo’s hand. 

“Motherfucker,” he groused. The prosthetic detached into Hanzo’s lap. It felt even heavier now. Jesse took his hand back to press the tissue to his face. He listed a little to one side before righting himself, and he sighed. 

“Thanks. And… thanks, for coming along.” 

“Genji asked me to.” 

“Yeah, I figured. Still, thanks.” 

Hanzo nodded, feeling… something at the thanks. He wasn’t sure what it was, though it felt sort of warm and good. He wasn’t sure how he felt about, well, feeling something. He stood and tucked the prosthetic under his arm before offering Jesse his free hand. 

“Come. We will drive back to civilization, find somewhere to rest for the night. I will see about finding us somewhere to get your arm checked.” 

“Yeah,” Jesse agreed. He was drained and exhausted, too much so to fight. He accepted Hanzo’s hand and let himself be pulled up. He swayed a little as he stood, finally managing to right himself. He didn’t let go of Hanzo’s hand. 

The contact was unexpected. Hanzo wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about it, and wasn’t that happening a lot today, but Jesse’s hand was nice and warm. He held Jesse’s hand as he led him back to the truck, jamming the prosthetic into his armpit so he could open the door to the cab. Jesse let himself be ushered into the seat. 

Hanzo put the arm in the back and climbed in on the driver’s side. He had to fiddle with the GPS to get it to recognize where they were and how to get them back on the road. Jesse was quiet as he watched him. Finally, Hanzo got them aimed at a nearby motel they could stay at for a reasonable rate and he started the truck up. It was less than pleased with how it had been abruptly stopped, but it sorted out its systems and got them moving again. 

They drove in silence for a while. It wasn’t until they’d cleared the trees and were back on a road that Jesse spoke up. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“For?” 

“Gettin’ you dragged into all this. Probably givin’ you a nasty scare.” 

“A ‘nasty scare’ as you put it. When you attempted to drive us off the cliff?” 

“…Yeah,” Jesse said sheepishly. “That wasn’t my plan, I just….” He didn’t really seem to have an answer and just slunk down further in his seat, covering his eyes with his hand. 

Hanzo glanced at him, keeping his eyes primarily on the road. He really, really was not the right person to be on this road trip with Jesse. “Have you… considered talking to someone?” he asked awkwardly. 

A quiet, hysterical little laugh bubbled out of Jesse. “Who’m I gonna talk to? Jack? _Ana_?” 

“Dr. Ziegler-” 

“Ain’t a psychiatrist. Doctors ain’t interchangeable like people treat ‘em.” 

“No, but perhaps she knows someone who could help.” 

“Can’t. I’m a wanted criminal, an’ she ain’t supposed to be part of Overwatch. Can’t really recommend me to anyone without givin’ that away.” 

Hanzo grimaced. Jesse was right, of course. Even if Angela could swear up and down that Jesse wouldn’t be ratted out or given away, even if there was someone she trusted not to rat her out, even if she knew someone who met those criteria who could actually help Jesse, it would never really feel safe enough for it to help. 

“We’ll figure something out,” he said firmly. Jesse moved his hand a little, peering out at Hanzo. 

“…I’m all right,” he said. “I appreciate it, but-”

“You are not all right.” 

“Sure I am, ain’t got my left arm.” 

Hanzo absorbed that, quietly, and then pulled the car over to the side of the road so he could turn and give Jesse the flat expression that joke deserved. Jesse had a very weak but quietly pleased smile tugging at his lips. 

“Anyone ever tell you yer a bit dramatic, Shimada?” he croaked. 

“Your punishment for that joke will be therapy.” 

That startled a rough, croaky laugh out of the cowboy. “Oh c’mon, bad jokes is all I got left! You tellin’ me you ain’t never made a joke about your legs?” 

“Absolutely not, I would not have a leg to stand on if I did so,” Hanzo said, completely straight, as he pulled the car back onto the highway. Jesse’s laughter made a smile tug at his lips. 

The motel wasn’t too far away, and it was almost completely empty when Hanzo pulled in. It was a nice little place, homey and cozy. They’d crossed into Switzerland at some point, but the signs had both English and Swiss German. Hanzo left Jesse in the truck while he got a room for them, not wanting to make the man be up and about more than necessary. Jesse was at least still awake when he came back. He tucked Jesse’s arm into his own bag, along with the tupperware of cookies, and shouldered both duffels and picked up Stormbow’s case. 

“I can carry one a’ those,” Jesse offered. 

“You can, but you will not,” Hanzo said simply. He helped Jesse out of the truck, closing it and locking it behind them. He’d requested the room furthest from anyone else, and that ended up being a small room on the very end completely dwarfed by a queen-sized bed. A single queen-sized bed. 

“And they were roommates,” Jesse said when they spotted the bed. Hanzo snorted and put their bags on the dresser before around for toiletries. “What, you know memes?” 

“I am related to Genji.” 

“Oh, yeah, that’ll do it.” Jesse seemed to be fading quickly, and Hanzo turned to him with his toiletries. The scrape on his head wasn’t fully clotted, and Hanzo grimaced. 

“Take a shower and brush your teeth. Be careful with the cut on your head. When you are done I will patch it up and then you will get some sleep. I am going to let Genji know we’re all right, and I’ll shower once you’re in bed.” 

“We’re sharin’ the bed then?” Jesse confirmed, already stepping out of his boots. 

“I’m not sleeping on the floor.” 

“I can-” 

“Manage to sleep in a bed with another person,” Hanzo said. Jesse didn’t argue, just took the bottles and shuffled into the bathroom. “And you will ask for assistance if you need it,” Hanzo called after him as he closed the door. 

“Yes sir,” Jesse called back. 

…Hm. Hanzo tucked _that_ feeling away to ignore indefinitely. 

He toed off his shoes, nudging them next to Jesse’s by the door, and opened up his communicator to call Genji. His call was picked up by the second ring. 

“ _Is Jesse okay_?” Genji said immediately, worry clear in his voice. 

“No,” Hanzo said bluntly but calmly. “He is physically unharmed,” he said before Genji could freak out, “though he took his arm before the Lindholms were able to finish their diagnostics run and it caused him some pain. Other than that, he is in extreme emotional and mental distress and may be suicidal.” 

“ _Shit_ ,” Genji muttered, covering his face with his hands. “ _ **Shit**. Okay, okay. Are you two coming back to base_?” 

“Not as of yet.” 

“ _What? Why_?” 

“McCree does not want to return, and I cannot see forcing him to go back would result in anything but him leaving again.” 

“ _If his arm is acting up_ -”

“There are other places to get a prosthetic checked out. I am going to have him get some rest and look for somewhere nearby to look at his arm.” 

There was a long pause on the other end, then Genji sighed. “ _Yes, of course, you’re right_ ,” Genji said. “ _Thank you. I’m glad you went with him_.” 

Hanzo sat back, scratching his fingers through his beard. “…McCree needs help,” he said quietly. 

“… _Yeah_ ,” Genji agreed just as quietly. “ _Where are you taking him_?” 

“I don’t know yet. We are not far from Zurich.” 

“ _Do you want me to ask Angela to send you some places you could go for his arm_?” 

“Yes, thank you.” 

“ _All right. …Do you think he would do well talking to Zenyatta…_?” 

Hanzo couldn’t help but sigh. “I don’t know. I don’t know McCree well enough. I don’t….” He felt agitated and scrubbed his hands through his hair, scraping his nails over his scalp. “I do not know how to handle this, Genji. I am not… I’m not good at this.” 

“ _I know_ ,” Genji said, soothing and reassuring. “ _I know, and I’m sorry I put you in this position. I don’t know who else I could trust with this though. I **don’t** trust anyone else with this_.” 

“And if I screw this up? _When_ I screw this up?” 

“ _You will not,_ ” Genji said firmly. “ _You will not let him hurt himself, and you will look out for him. That’s all I can ask of anyone right now Hanzo, and you will succeed at that better than anyone else_.”

“Why? I do not have experience with looking after people or taking care of them.” 

“ _You took care of me when we were growing up, and you kept me out of trouble_.”

Hanzo took a deep, quiet breath. “Genji, please look down at yourself and tell me how well my taking care of you ended up.” 

“ _Two things. One, Jesse is much more agreeable to being ordered around and taken care of than I was. And two, Hanzo, I feel you should know that despite everything that happened and all of the pain, anguish, and guilt, you have given me the best gift I could have ever asked for. I get to have my beautiful ass out at all times, uncovered by pants, and no one can say anything without being considered insensitive_.” 

Hanzo closed his eyes. “…Genji, I would like you to know that I have never regretted what I did to you more in this moment after hearing you say that.” 

Genji’s laugh coming through the comm was wonderful to hear, and Hanzo let himself smile since Genji couldn’t see him. 

“I do have to say though,” he drawled, “that you being so thrilled to show off your tiny pathetic ass is a deep shame to our family.” 

“ _Hey_!” Genji laughed. “ _My ass is tight and toned and glorious_!” 

“Tiny. An embarrassment. In all these years how have you not asked for a better ass.” 

“ _There is no better ass than mine, brother_.”

“A baby twink’s ass.” 

Genji gasped, overdramatically affronted. “ _How dare you, I am a **full-grown twink** thank you very much_.” 

“Tiniest target I ever had t’ shoot at in drills,” Jesse said, coming out of the bathroom with a towel slung low around his hips. Hanzo managed to cover choking on his tongue as he looked over all of Jesse’s gloriously thick body. Hairy, tan, broad muscles and rolls of fat around his belly and hips. _Fuck_ ing hell. He put his tongue back in his head as Jesse crouched by the bags, digging through his for some clothes. 

“ _Jesse McCree, you have betrayed me worse than my own brother. I am wounded. Beyond repair. My heart is shattered_.” 

“Oh, I get your Sentai collection then?” Jesse asked. 

“Absolutely not, I have called dibs,” Hanzo said without thinking. It was enough of a lifeline to pull his brain out of the gutter. 

“ _Horrible. Both of you. Traitors. Never come back._ ” 

“Love you too Gen,” Jesse called, standing up with some underwear, sweatpants, and a shirt. He slipped back into the bathroom to change. Hanzo tried not to admire the muscles in his back and the love handles at his hips. 

“I will keep you updated,” Hanzo said once the door was closed. 

“ _Thank you. Really, Hanzo, this… means a lot to me_.” 

“I know, I will take care of him.” 

“ _Thank you, brother_.” 

“Good night Genji. Get some rest.” 

“ _Good night._ ” Genji hung up, and Hanzo let out a long, slow breath. This would be fine. Genji trusted him with this, and Jesse hadn’t been so hard to manage. Sure, he’d almost driven off a cliff, but that had been spur of the moment, and he hadn’t seemed fully aware of what he was doing. 

This would be fine. 

And… Hanzo found he wasn’t as panicked as he thought he would be. It wasn’t a second chance at keeping Genji safe: Jesse wasn’t Genji, and this situation was so far divorced from their childhood it wasn’t really comparable. Maybe that was what made it easier? Maybe he was just older, more experienced. He still wasn’t great at comfort, but he wasn’t under the rigid rule of the Shimada anymore. He wasn’t trying to keep Jesse bound to any rules or traditions, wasn’t trying to simultaneously protect him from them. He was just… helping someone. Someone who was a friend. He hated to admit it, and he _wouldn’t_ admit it to Genji, but being on speaking terms and working well together was pretty much Hanzo’s bar for friends at this point in his life. 

Jesse was a friend, and Jesse just… needed someone to be there to direct him for a bit. Hanzo could do that. 

Especially with how nice it felt to have Jesse doing as Hanzo told him. 

He shoved that back into its box for later, much much later. If ever. Never, preferably. Definitely never. 

Jesse opened the door in a shirt and sweatpants, a towel over his shoulders to catch the water from his still wet hair. 

“Shower’s free. Water pressure’s not too bad.” He looked even more drained, shoulders slumped and eyes foggy and far away. 

Hanzo stood. “Get in bed under the covers and sit up. I’m going to get a glass of water for you and you’re going to drink it, then I’m going to patch up your head. When I’m done you can lie down and go to sleep.” 

He was pleased when Jesse didn’t complain, just did as he was told and crawled in under the covers. He sat up with his back against the headboard. Hanzo went to the bathroom and unwrapped one of the disposable cups, filling it with cold water and bringing it back out for Jesse to drink. Jesse smiled, but it was thin and exhausted. 

“Thanks,” he murmured, accepting the cup and drinking it down steadily. Hanzo dug through his go-bag and found the small first-aid kit he kept there.

“Tilt your head back,” he instructed, turning on the light closest to McCree. The cut was shallow, just the skin scraped off, but that made it look all the more painful. Hanzo disinfected it carefully and smeared some healing salve over it. He had some degrading bandages, skin-tight semi-organic bandages that would cling to the skin and wear off like a scab over time, and he carefully pressed down the edges around the scrape. 

“Good?” he checked. Jesse’s head was tilting towards his hand, eyes glassy and half-lidded. Hanzo pet Jesse’s hair away from the bandage and Jesse hummed. Good enough. “Lie down, get some sleep. I’ll try not to disturb you when I come to bed.” 

Jesse shook awake enough. “No worries,” he said. He shuffled down until he was lying flat, head propped up on the pillow. Hanzo pulled the blanket up over Jesse’s shoulder without thinking about it. Then he set his hand over Jesse’s head _really_ without thinking about it. 

He opened his mouth, intending to apologize, but that would require taking his hand away and he _hadn’t done that yet_? “Sleep well,” he said instead. Jesse sagged into the bed, sighing softly as his eyes closed. 

“Okay,” he murmured. “Thank you.” Hanzo ran his thumb across Jesse’s temple before moving away and going to the bathroom. 

His heart felt like it was hammering out of his chest as he closed the door and stood in the middle of the bathroom, staring at nothing. 

_What the fuck. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck._

_I am… too old and too gay to be having a gay panic moment now_ , he told himself firmly. He’d always known about his sexuality. Being in denial when he was younger didn’t mean he hadn’t known. And he hadn’t had to be in denial since he had left the clan for good. 

Yes, Jesse was attractive. He’d been aware of that in a distant sense since he joined Overwatch. Big, burly, rough and tumble, tan and hairy. He hadn’t needed to see Jesse mostly naked to confirm that, but it definitely, definitely helped. 

Hanzo also knew Jesse was kind and sweet, had seen how he treated everyone. He took care of the younger soldiers, Genji, Angela, Winston, _everyone_. Hell, he was kind to Hanzo too, even if they had needed some time to warm up to each other. It just reinforced his attractiveness. 

The wild card in this scenario was _Hanzo_. He’d never wanted to take care of someone. There had been people he wanted to bed, to dominate, even a rare few he’d entertained being dominated by, but taking care of someone? Being soft and gentle, just telling them to do basic self-care, getting water for them, stroking their hair? He hadn’t done this before. He hadn’t ever wanted to, hadn't even _thought_ about doing it. 

But… he wanted to do it for Jesse. He wanted Jesse to stop having to think, do what Hanzo told him and trust Hanzo to take care of him. And Jesse, in this moment, was doing just that. 

Jesse _trusted_ Hanzo. Trusting on the field was one thing, but he trusted Hanzo to- 

Jesse had taken his arm off for Hanzo. 

That had been an hour ago, and the realization just now smacked Hanzo in the face like being hit with a salmon. He was left stunned and bewildered. Had he ever trusted anyone enough to just take his legs off for them if they asked? Hell no, he’d specifically gotten prosthetics made for long-term wear. He could wear them for days, easily, specifically so he didn’t have to remove his legs. He’d never seen Jesse without his arm until they’d needed to take it off after getting hacked, and Jesse had just… popped it off for him, without putting up a fight. 

That…

_…I need to get some sleep._

Yes. That was the best course of action right now. Hanzo needed sleep. He showered quickly and brushed his teeth, drinking some water himself before going back to the bedroom. Jesse was in the same position as Hanzo had left him, eyes closed and breathing deep. Out cold. Hanzo changed into sleep clothes, made sure the door was locked and Stormbow and his arrows were close by, and sat on the edge of the bed. 

Speaking of prosthetics, he needed to take his off. He could wear them for a long time, but they needed to come off every so often to give his body a break. And, well, Jesse had trusted Hanzo enough to pop his arm off without complaint, Hanzo could take his legs off for the night. 

Reaching down, Hanzo went through the full process of depowering his legs. They didn’t come off easily, so it took some time to run through the systems and disconnect them safely. There were emergency releases, but they were emergency for a reason. 

The disconnect of going from having feet and legs under his knees to suddenly not made him go cross-eyed for a couple of seconds. He waited for it to clear, feeling like his brain was having to subtly rewrite itself a little, and shook his head at the feeling. 

_I suppose I get to make leg puns now_ , he thought, remembering their conversation earlier. Jesse wasn’t awake to hear the joke, sadly, but Hanzo was pretty sure he would have laughed. Hanzo smiled at the thought and slid under the covers. 

The bed was soft, Jesse was a comforting presence on his other side, the sheets were nice and smooth on his leg stumps, and Hanzo let himself drop off to sleep. 


End file.
